


A Most Intriguing Proposition

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Eagle and the Cross [35]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Marriage Proposal, Nightwish - Freeform, Sleeping Sun - Nightwish, Sleepwalker - Nightwish, Sweet, bathtime, get your head out of the gutter people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arno takes a bath after a difficult mission. Élise joins him, and he proposes a most intriguing suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Most Intriguing Proposition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSolarSurfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSolarSurfer/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Arno peeled off his clothes with a soft hiss, while the doe-eyed maid filled the copper tub with steaming hot water. "Lovely," he grumbled as he looked at yet another cut on his torso. He dabbed at it, light and hesitant, with an already blood spotted rag. His most recent mission had done no favors to his body.

"Your bath is ready Mousier Dorian," the maid muttered, holding the empty pitcher in her hands. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No," Arno said, looking up at her briefly. "I'll be fine, thank you." He traced a scar on his body, watching the maid leave via the mirror. He sighed, walked to the tub and finished undressing before getting into the hot water. He hissed as he slipped into the warm liquid, groaning as his wounds met the heat, ultimately sighing in contentment, the warmth soothing the ache in his muscles; the flowery scented bubbles coming up to his neck. He tugged the ribbon that bound his hair free.

He stared at the ribbon, old and frayed. Once a red the same shade as fresh blood. Élise had given it to him when he was thirteen, an impish grin on her face as she told him he needed to keep the hair out of his face. The color was no longer as brilliant at it had been then all those years ago; yet he still wore it. He slipped beneath the water, running his hands through his hair a few times, to dislodge the dirt and whatever else was in it. He popped up again with a gasp, grabbed the soap and worked up a good lather before washing his hair. Once that was done, he washed the rest of his body.

Arno finished washing his feet when he felt two hands slip over his eyes. He froze, swallowing and thinking of how to get out of this trap. He twisted the washrag around both hands, pulling it taunt. An ineffective garrote but it'll serve in a pinch. "I'll give you three guesses as to who I am?" the voice said, the speaker's lips brushing his ear.

 _Ah, I know that voice,_ Arno thought. "And if I fail to guess who you are within those three guess?"

"Well, I'll just have to leave and you'll be wondering who was here."

"Are you Marie Antoinette?" Arno asked.

"No," the speaker said, tapping his nose with her fingers, "guess one. You have two more."

"The Queen of England?" Arno asked, a cocksure smirk on his face.

"Good heavens, no," the speaker laughed, "but I am queen of something. perhaps your heart?"

Arno chuckled. "There is only one queen of my heart," he reached up and pulled one hand away. "She's beautiful," he kissed a finger, "fiery," another finger kissed, "fearless," another finger, "graceful," he kissed her index finger, "and stubborn. By God is she stubborn." He kissed her thumb before slipping it into his mouth and sucking on it. He heard the speaker gasp, his name escaping her lips. He pulled her thumb out of his mouth.

"Say my name," the speaker whispered. "If you know me so well."

"Élise de la Serre," Arno said, pulling the other hand away and leaning his head back. "If I'm not mistaken." Élise smiled. "How did you get in here?"

"I followed you," Élise replied, running her hands along his face before kissing him. Arno made a little content sound in his throat. Élise pulled away, though their noses still touched. "You aren't the only one that can climb buildings."

"A woman after my own heart," Arno chuckled.

"Hm, I might have to meet her and tell her you are already spoken for," Élise teased, tapping Arno on the nose. "Though I thought that maid would never leave."

"She's harmless," Arno assured Élise, "she has a crush on me."

"Do I have competition?" Élise arched a brow.

"No, never," Arno said, cupping Élise's face, his thumb gracing her cheekbone. "There is no other woman I would want but you."

Élise smiled. "You sure are charming," she said, "sit up. I'll wash your back."

"Alright." Arno shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He handed Élise the washrag. "So, you followed me? How did you mange that?"

"It wasn't easy," Élise said, rubbing the soap into the rag before applying it to Arno's back. "I lost track of you several times since you took to the rooftops."

"I thought someone was following me," he said, "turns out I was right." He turned, a smile on his face and he pressed his lips against hers. Élise giggled, and pressed her hand against his shoulder turning him around. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"How did you get all these scars?" she asked, tracing one that ran diagonally across his spine. Arno gave a little shuddering gasp, arching at her touch.

"Bellec is a rather… harsh teacher," Arno whispered. "And Templars aren't so fond of Assassins."

"Oh, my poor Arno," Élise murmured, before leaning in and kissing the scar. Arno gasped louder. "And here's another one," she said, tracing it before pressing her lips against it. Arno groaned softly. He heard the slosh of water and the roughness of the cloth across his back. Then Élise's light fingers across yet another scar. She didn't say anything, her lips brushing against the scar. She kissed every scar she found on his back, sometimes muttering, sometimes not.

He couldn't stand it any longer. He twisted around, grabbed her by her biceps and pulled her into the tub, laughing as she yelped in surprised and sputtered, wiping the bubbles away from her face. She sat on her knees between her legs. "Arno!" she screeched, as he laughed pulling her onto his chest.

"Let me help you out of those wet clothes," he murmured against her ear, pecking her lobe. His fingers were already working on freeing the laces, teasing the soft skin beneath. Élise gasped, hips pressing down against his. He smirked.

"The only reason," Élise said tightly, "that my clothes are wet to begin with is because you pulled me into the tub!"

"I wanted to kiss you properly," Arno said, cupping her cheek and kissing her. "I couldn't do that with you behind me, now could I?" A smirk spread across his lips. "Soap bubbles were in the way."

"You just want to have sex," Élise said, a glint in her eyes that told Arno she wasn't oppose to the idea.

"I never said that, _mon cher_ ," Arno said, "but I'm not excluding the possibility." He smiled and resumed attempting to tug her stays free. Élise laughed, splashing him lightly.

"Well," she said with a huff, "it's a good thing neither of us is spoken for," she looped her arms around Arno's neck, breasts pressing up against his chest, "otherwise I fear it would have gotten rather _Shakespearean_ in Paris."

Arno chuckled, hands finally finding a way beneath her clothes to feel the soft skin beneath. "It still could," Arno said, pecking her lips. "The Templars and the Assassins are very much like the Montagues and the Capulets. A Templar and an Assassin being bound in holy matrimony, unheard of and scandalous."

"What about Maria Thorpe and Altaïr ibn-La'Ahad?" Élise asked.

"You know Assassin history?" Arno quirked a brow.

"I know _Templar_ history. Maria Thorpe was once a Templar. The right hand man of Robert de Sablé, before he died and his successor was rather sexist towards her. Altaïr and Sablé's successor ultimately drove her away from the Templars."

"Your loss," Arno said with a little shrug. "Though I'm surprise you know the tale."

"It's a great love story," Élise replied, "a bit like ours."

"I doubt either of us will go down in the history of either order because of our love for each other," Arno grumbled.

"I don't know, maybe," Élise replied with a shrug.

"Marry me," Arno whispered.

"Pardon?" Élise asked, sitting up. She stared, wide-eyed at him. "Arno what did you just say?"

"Marry me," Arno repeated, he wriggled, putting his elbows on rim of the tub and sitting up a bit straighter. "I'm serious Élise, marry me."

"What about the Revolution? My father's killer?" Élise asked.

"The Revolution will still be raging and I won't rest until your father's killer is found and dealt with," he grabbed her hands, "you have my word, Élise. Don't you trust me? I am still the same Arno you remember."

"Of course you are," Élise said, brushing some hair out of Arno's face. "And I do trust you."

"Then what is your answer?" Arno asked, a hopeful look in his eyes. Élise sighed, tsking softly.

"How could I say no to that face?" she cupped Arno's face and jiggled it in her hands, laughing as he rolled his eyes. "Yes, Arno, of course I'll marry you. I'll have no one else for a husband."

"Good," Arno said, pulling his face out of her hands before pulling her close. "I'll have no one else for a wife." He kissed her, slipping his tongue between her lips and grinning when she moaned softly. "Now," he said, pulling away, "all we have to do is keep this from the Assassin Council. Otherwise Bellec will have a fit if he found out his precious protégé was marrying a Templar."

"Bellec," Élise said, tapping Arno's nose. "Can kiss my pretty little ass."

Arno laughed. "Well he can't," he said with a grin, "because _I'll_ be kissing it." Élise laughed, slapping him playfully across the shoulder.

"Oh, Arno," she said, "save it for the wedding night."

"Speaking of wedding nights," Arno said, rubbing her hips, "how are we going to do this without tipping of either the Assassins _or_ the Templars?"

"Are you suggesting we elope?" Élise asked, incredulous, a brow arching in her surprise.

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting _mon cher_ ," Arno replied. "We could go to Vienna."

"Vienna?" Élise said, "a most intriguing proposition."

"I run the risk of seeing my mother, though…"

"Your mother?" Élise perked up, "You never speak of her. Why?"

Arno looked away, brushing some hair out of his face. The candles around the tub became rather interesting. He stared at the melting wax for several long moments until Élise touched his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. "My mother left when I was a boy. She… couldn't handle my father being an Assassin. After his death your father contacted her, but she refused to take me in, so I was to remained with your father."

"Oh how horrid!" Élise gasped, a frown creasing her face.

"I've come to peace with it," Arno said.

"No! She's a horrid woman, Arno!" Élise insisted, cupping his face. "If only she knew what a wonderful son you are, and the man you've become."

"Élise," Arno muttered, looking at anything but her. "Thank you. Thank you so much." Élise smiled, tilting his chin up so he could look at her.

"I only speak the truth, you are a good man, Arno. Any mother would proud to have you as her son."

Arno kissed Élise then, sinking back into the tub. Water sloshed on either side of the tub, splashing onto the floor. They pulled apart and Arno ran his fingers through Élise's curly red hair. "My mother didn't like the fact my father was an assassin."

"Oh well," Élise said, "it's not a life for every woman." She traced the scar on his face, a parting gift from a rifle's butt, "being the wife of an assassin that is. I like to think true love knows no bounds."

"I think theirs was a marriage of convenience, no actual love between them." Arno muttered, "Not like us."

A knock sounded on the door. Élise squeaked, vaulting herself over the side of the tub and landing on her bottom with at thump. "Élise?" Arno asked, leaning over the side to look at her.

"Mousier Dorian? Mousier Dorian, is the water getting cold?" the doe-eyed maid called.

"Get rid of her!" Élise hissed, hugging her knees to her chest, she realized her stays were untied then, gave an indigent huff and began to lace them back up. "Hurry Arno, before both of our reputations are sullied!"

"Mousier Dorian, is everything alright? I heard something…"

"Everything is fine!" Arno called. "The water is pleasantly warm, I don't need anything."

"Are you sure? I could get you a glass of water," the maid called.

Élise rolled her eyes. "Oh please, can she be any less obvious about wanting to see you na—"

" _Élise!_ " Arno hissed as the door cracked open and the maid pressed her eye against the crack.

"Mousier Dorian?"

"Go now or Madame Charlotte will hear about this!" Arno snapped. The maid squeaked, muttering a hasty _oui mousier!_ before she closed the door with a soft snick. Arno waited delved into his senses, watching her glowing blue aura slip around the corner and down the stairs. "Well that was a close one."

"A little too close," Élise said, shifting to rest her weight on her knees, arms slung over the rim of the tub. "She wanted to catch a peek at _my_ fiancé naked. The nerve of her."

Arno flushed. "Élise…"

"Is that a blush I see?" Élise asked, pinching Arno's cheek. He pulled free of her grip, patting his abused cheek.

"You know me, Élise. Fierce assassin. I don't blush."

"Ah," Élise nodded, "of course not. My eyes must be failing me, because this," she tapped his cheek, "clearly looks like a blush. Unless," Élise mused, tapping her lips, "you aren't as good an assassin as you say you are."

Arno felt his cheeks burn even more. "Élise…"

"Arno."

"Why don't I help you out of those wet clothes now," he said, "the tub is big enough for two."

"I suppose," Élise said, "the silk is already ruined. What is a girl to do?"

"Join her fiancé in the tub or the bed. I'm sure I can sneak you to the bed."

"The tub is a novel idea but the bed is a tried and true concept."

"Then I'm afraid we are at an impasse."

"Indeed."

"The bed is very nice. It's a feather bed, goose feather I am told."

"Oh, expensive. Shall we do both?" Élise asked, dipping her hand into the water, fingers brushing against Arno's thigh. Arno gave a little gasp. "Though the water is rather tepid."

"Best be quick then," Arno said, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards him. "Before the water becomes too cold."

"Or," Élise said, wiggling her hand free, "we can go to the bed. I heard goose feathers are rather plush."

"To the bed then," Arno said, grabbing a towel, he stood, wrapping the towel around his waist. Élise laughed, tugging free her stays as she sashayed towards the bed. Arno slipped out of the tub, grinning like a fool.

He grabbed the old, frayed, yet sturdy ribbon.

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
> 
> Thanks to Solar Surfer for the majority of Elise's dialogue. :) It was too good to pass up. 
> 
> Aaaah… a tumblr conversation morphed into this. Be prepared FFN/AO3 for many more Élise and Arno stories! I love these two. They are adorable. Simply adorable. Also thanks to The Solar Surfer for Elise's dialogue, it was too good not to use. :) 
> 
> :3
> 
> I even have an OC daughter for them in my head. Françoise, she has her father's brown hair but mother's eyes. (I think Élise's eyes are blue or green… hafta check my AC art book). The name is the feminine version of Élise's father's name. :)
> 
> This may turn into a trilogy of oneshot, or a four some. The next one they get married… and then Élise finds out she's pregnant and the final one will be happy family moments…
> 
> Also, Bellec is alive. Fuck the time line! I want him to be the cranky old uncle for little Françoise! :D
> 
> Save an author; leave a review!


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